The Arkansaw traveler., 1887-08-06

with the other he held out his battered hat for aims.
 "What an amazing model!" whis- pered Hughie, as he shook hands with his friend.
 "An amazing model?" shouted Tre- vor at the top of his voice; "I should think SO! Such beggars as he are not to be met with every day. A trou- oatlle, mon cher: living Velasquez ]! My stars! what an etching Rem- brandt would have made of himw
 "Poor old chap!" said Hughie, "How miserable he looks! But sup pose, to you painters, his face is his fortune?"
 Certainly" replied Trevor; "you don't want beggar to look happy, do you?"
 "How much does a model get for sitting?" asked Hughie, as he found himself comfortable seat on divan.
 "A shilling an hour"
 "And how much do you get for your picture, Alan?"
 70, for this I get thousand"
 "Pounds?"
 "Guineas. Painters, poets and phy- sicians always get guineas."
 "Well, think the model should have percentage" said Hughie, laughing "they work quite as hard as you do."
 "Nonsense, nonsense! Why, look at the trouble of laying on the paint alone, and standing all day long at ones easel! It's all very we'll, Hughie, for you to talk, but assure you that there are moments when art ap- breaches the dignity of manual labor. But you mustn't chatter; Pm very busy. Smoke cigarette, and keep quiet"
 After some time the servant came in and told Trevor that the frame maker wanted to speak to him.
 "Don't run away, Hughie," he said, as he went out. "I will be back in a moment"
 The old beggar- took advantage of Trevor's absence to rest for a mo- ment on wooden bench that was be- hind him. He looked so forlorn and wretched that Hughie could not help pitying him, and he felt in his pocket to see what money he had. All he could find was sovereign and some coppers. "Poor old fellow" he thought to himself, Che wants it more than do, but it means no hansoms for fortnight" and he walked across the studio and slipped the sovereign into the beggar's hand.
 The old man started, and faint smile fitted across his withered lips. "Thank you, sir" he said in foreign accent.
 Then Trevor arrived, and Hughie took his leave, blushing a little at what he had done. He spent the day with Laura, got charming scolding for his extravaganza, and had to walk home.
 That night he strolled into the Palette Club about eleven o'clock, and found Trevor sitting by himselfin in the smoking drinking hook and seltzer.
 "Well, Alan, did you get the pie ture finished all right?" he said, as he lit his cigarette.
 "Finished and framed, my boy p answered Trevor; "and, by the by, you have made conquest. That old model you saw is quite devoted to you. had to tell him all about you who you are, where you live, what your income is, what prospects you have"
 "My dear Alan," cried Hughie, "I shall probably find him waiting for me when go home. But of course you are only joking, Poor old beg gar! 1 wish 1 could do something for him. think it is dreadful that any one should be so miserable. I have got heaps of old clothes at home do you think he would care for any of them? Why, his rags were falling to bits."
 "But he looks splendid in them" said Trevor. T wouldn't paint him in frock coat for anything. What you call rags l call romance. What seems poverty to you is picturesque ness to me. However, I'll tell him of your offer."
 "Alan," said Hughie seriously, "you painters are heartless lot"
 "An artists heart is his head" re- piled Trevor; land besides, our busi- ness is to realize the world as we see it, not to reform it as we know it. 4 chacma son metier. And now tell me how Laura is. The old model was quite interested in her." "You don't mean to say you talked to him about her," said Hughie.
 "Certainly did. He knows all about the relentless colonel, the lovely damsel, and the 10000 pounds"
 "You told that old beggar all my private affairs?" cried Hughie, looking very red and angry. "My dear boy.n said Treyor. smil.